From Whiteboard Advisors, Education Insiders predict the future:
From Whiteboard Advisors, Education Insiders predict the future:
KidZania theme parks offer children a thrill better than any ride, writes Rebecca Mead in The New Yorker. Children between the ages of four and fourteen get a “chance to enact the roles of grownups in a lavishly realized, scaled-down world.”
The idea started in Mexico, spread to cities in a dozen other countries, including Tokyo, Kuala Lumpur, Mumbai, and Istanbul, and is now coming to the U.S.
“KidZania is a proudly mundane municipality: children can work on a car assembly line, or move furniture, or put out a fake fire with real water,” Mead writes.
Children receive 50 “kidzos” at the gate and earn more by participating in an activity.
“Children can spend their kidzos on renting a car—small electric vehicles moving around a go-kart track that is sponsored by companies like Mercedes-Benz or Renault—or at the mini city’s department store, which bears the name of a regional chain and is stocked with covetable trinkets,” writes Mead.
In Mexico, kids tend to spend their kidzos immediately after earning them; in Japan, it is difficult to persuade children to part with their kidzos at all. López jokes that when KidZania arrives in the U.S. kids will demand the introduction of a credit card. In Lisbon, kids mostly come with their parents, whereas in the Gulf states they are often accompanied by nannies or dropped off by drivers. . . . In KidZania Jeddah, which is scheduled to open in Saudi Arabia later this month, girls will be permitted to drive cars, a privilege denied their mothers.
At Cuicuilco in Mexico, a crashed car sit beside the highway, “its buckled engine periodically emitting steam, to illustrate the dangers of careless driving. I saw children with clipboards acting as insurance agents, taking an inventory of the accident.”
“This is not princesses and dwarfs, ” says Xavier López Ancona, the founder and CEO. “We immerse our visitors in a simulated reality.”
Mead’s son earned kidzos by delivering packages. He also worked as a detective, using the crime lab to identify a bank-robbery suspect, passed his driver’s test and “flew” a plane.
Smartphones Don’t Make Us Dumb, writes cognitive scientist Dan Willingham in the New York Times. Digital devices don’t even destroy our attention spans. “We can focus,” he writes. But we may not want to.”
In a 2012 Pew survey, nearly 90 percent of teachers said their students can’t pay attention the way they could a few years ago.
It may be that digital devices have not left us unable to pay attention, but have made us unwilling to do so.
The digital world carries the promise of amusement that is constant, immediate and limitless. If a YouTube video isn’t funny in the first 10 seconds, why watch when I can instantly seek something better on BuzzFeed or Spotify? The Internet hasn’t shortened my attention span, but it has fixed a persistent thought in the back of my mind: Isn’t there’s something better to do than what I’m doing?
. . . People’s performance on basic laboratory tests of attention gets worse if a cellphone is merely visible nearby. In another experiment, people using a driving simulator were more likely to hit a pedestrian when their cellphone rang, even if they had planned in advance not to answer it.
Digital devices encourage “near constant outwardly directed thought” at the expense of time for reflection, Willingham concludes. “A flat cap on time with devices — the restriction we first think of for ourselves and our kids — might help.”
Multi-tasking is a myth, writes Leah Levy on Edudemic.
Kids spend hours a day looking at screens, writes Alexandra Ossola in The Atlantic. Doctors fear screen junkies will suffer posture problems, carpal-tunnel pain, neck strain and eye problems, she writes.
Close to half—46 percent—of all third-grade boys, on average, use screens for more than two hours per day, and that usage increases to 70 percent of boys on average by the time they reach ninth grade. Fewer third-grade girls—43 percent—use screens compared with their male counterparts, but that rate jumps to surpass boys’ average usage in ninth grade, to more than 90 percent of girls.
“Girls may have been doing more homework than the boys, and the boys may have been doing more sports [away from screens] or playing more video-games on hand-held devices,” says a pediatrician.
Some parents limit children’s screen time.
Dan Willingham’s five mini book reviews include a look at Jack Schneider’s book, From the Ivory Tower to the Schoolhouse. It asks “why do some ideas from academia gain influence among educators whereas others do not?”
Schneider names four key factors. For ideas to be influential, they must be compatible with teachers’ general philosophical orientation regarding childhood, they must seem of potential importance, there must be some hope of realistically acting on them in the classroom, and they must be transportable across contexts.
I think the first one is the key: People believe an idea because they want to believe it and ignore ideas that challenge their world view.
Willingham also likes The Opposite of Spoiled by Ron Lieber, which is subtitled “Raising Kids Who Are Grounded, Generous, and Smart About Money.”
“I’m the parent Lieber targets in this book,” he writes. “I want my kids to have the values my wife and I share when it comes to money, but I don’t know how to impart them.”
The school reform debate reaches its peak of vitriol when it turns to teachers unions and “corporate reformers,” writes Steven Hodas on The Lens. This reflects a culture clash, he argues, citing his experience in New York City.
Urban school systems — like other municipal departments — “drew employees largely from blue-collar urban ethnic populations seeking entry into the middle class,” he writes. The work culture valued apprenticeship in the craft, “personal relationships gained through immersion and tenure in the workplace, and an acute awareness of chain of command and workplace rules.”
The techniques of day-to-day practice (on a job site, at a fire, in the classroom) were largely unwritten . . . The centers of gravity and legitimacy were situated with the front-line workers themselves, and only those managers who had risen through the ranks of successive apprenticeship had legitimized authority.
Mayor Michael Bloomberg and Chancellor Joel Klein brought in a “white-collar, managerially focused culture” that sees seniority and experience as suspect. “Personal loyalties and obligations . . . are not assets but liabilities to org chart-style managers.” Klein created new career routes “that explicitly sought to route around the traditional pathways of apprenticeship,” writes Hodas.
For the first time, significant numbers of teachers, principals, and district personnel were recruited from elite institutions, not for lifelong careers but for stints of indeterminate duration. Now, principals need not to have spent long periods in the classroom or serving apprenticeships as assistant principals. Central office administrators increasingly drew from the ranks of those who had (or could have had) lucrative professional careers elsewhere and would never before have considered service within one of the nation’s most notorious bureaucracies.
The two cultures — blue-collar and white-collar — mistrusted and misunderstood each other, writes Hodas. “White-collar managers saw themselves as missionary and insurgent, their nominal authority threatened and undermined at every turn by aboriginal cultures of practice. Where they found strongholds they dismantled them, most significantly in the community school districts and in the central Division of Teaching and Learning (headed at the time by Carmen Farina, now de Blasio’s Chancellor and settling scores). “
The new Advanced Placement U.S. History framework, known as APUSH, doesn’t give students the tools to analyze history, writes Robert L. Paquette, a history professor.
The broad appeal of Howard Zinn’s Marxist baby-talk in AP history classes stems not only from the appeal of the politics of the his best-selling People’s History of the United States to activist teachers, but its service in easing bored and indifferent students through the past by personalizing and simplifying it through trivialization. The current emphasis on “identities” often boils down in the classroom to the instructor’s attempt to get the students to empathize with the personal feelings of a favored group of historical actors extracted from the ranks of the oppressed. While these voices may elicit students’ sympathy, perhaps even guilt, they do little to enhance understanding of the proper yardsticks by which the past must be measured so that it does not become vulgarized.
APUSH treatment of race, class, and gender reflects “presentism,” Paquette writes.
Forms of prejudice like ethnocentrism, which can be seen as universal phenomenon, appear to be a debility that largely afflicted persons of European descent. On one page of a unit dealing with European expansion, for example, the authors assert that Spanish and Portuguese explorers had “little experience dealing with people who were different from themselves.” Compared to whom? Kongos? Aztecs? Catawbas?
For many high achievers, AP U.S. history will be their last American history course, writes Paquette.
On the US History Teachers Blog, Ken Halla recommends this video.
Stephanie Parra, a member of the Phoenix Union High School District governing board, said the requirement will waste time and money, reports NPR. “Having students memorize and regurgitate facts is not going to get to the goal of what we want to accomplish here, which is retaining the importance and value of what American civics education should be,” Parra said.
Translation: Knowledge is useless.
In Model Citizens, Robert Pondiscio calls the requirement “a no-brainer in more ways than one.”
The naturalization test requires very basic knowledge:
What are the first ten amendments to the Constitution called?
Name two rights in the Declaration of Independence.
Why do some states have more representatives than others?
Who is the governor of your state now?
How old do citizens have to be to vote for President?
Who is the President of the United States?
Applicants for citizenship — and now Arizona 12th graders — need only get 60 percent of the questions right.
In 2010, the pass rate among those seeking naturalization was 97.5 percent according to a Xavier University study. Yet more than one in three native-born citizens fail when asked to show even that rock-bottom, basic level of civic knowledge. Raise the bar to seven out of ten for a passing and 50 percent fail.
. . . Serious People in Education cluck at the citizenship test. It’s just trivial pursuit, they say. It’s no substitute for deep engagement in civics and citizenship.
“If you graduate from a U.S. high school without being able to name one of your senators, any war fought in the 1900s, or the name of a single American Indian tribe, something has gone seriously wrong,” responds Pondiscio.
I had to memorize the Preamble to the U.S. Constitution as part of a test on the U.S. and Illinois Constitutions to collect my junior high diploma. (Those who failed were allowed to retake the test multiple times.) I think I could do the Preamble today, nearly 50 years later. “We the people of the United States, in order to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity . . . “
Common Core State Standards, created behind closed doors, has denied the public a voice in their schools and challenged their loyalty, writes Bill Evers in Education Next. There’s no escape from the Core: Private schools and even home-schooling parents have to teach to the standards if they want students to do well on the Core-aligned SATs. One of Common Core’s chief architects, David Coleman, now heads the College Board, which produces the SAT tests.
In Albert O. Hirschman’s Exit, Voice, and Loyalty, he discusses how individuals react when services deteriorate. They may “exit” — leave or find a new provider — or use their “voice” to participate in politics. But the exit option is constrained by their loyalty to institutions.
In the 1830s, Alexis de Tocqueville “found Americans intensely loyal to their local schools,” writes Evers. “Americans saw schools as extensions of their families and neighborhoods.”
Today, Americans remain loyal to their local schools, but resist “an unresponsive bureaucracy carrying out edicts from distant capitals,” writes Evers.
When people see no exit, they turn to political action, he writes. Hence the blowback against Common Core and its tests.